by Rhys Ford
Death pursed his mouth, nearly a kissable pout to Ari’s eyes. He turned the page around, then returned to his reading. “Try that.”
“I still can’t make this out.” Ari returned Death’s moue, mocking the other Horseman. “I learned to read after this crap became archaic, remember? Did someone behind the curtain actually cough up some information for a change? Do we look for a big neon arrow that flashes Stupid Magus Here?”
“Nothing that helpful.”
“The moving text is a nice touch. Got to give them that.” Ari touched the page, expecting to feel movement under his hand. The paper remained smooth, despite the shifting letters. “Might give you a headache if you stare at it long enough.”
“I wish it would stop. I think I wrote something important there that I want to check against this,” Death said, tracing a line of text in a book. “It only says that things will get worse for this world if we don’t stop this thing, whatever it is.”
“Oh yes,” the blond shot back. “We didn’t know that. Maybe we should just let them all die. I mean, sometimes, don’t you just wish humans would clean up their own messes?”
Death glanced at his hijacked notes, hoping the moving text had stopped so he could reference a passage against what he wrote. “When did you of all people become judgmental?”
“Maybe I’m jealous. I like being the center of your attention.” Ari stroked Death’s bare arm, the back of his hand warmed by the contact. “Tell me you found something useful in the books at least. Or should I just drag you off to bed?”
“Only bits and pieces.” Death’s heavy sigh rattled in his chest. As he rubbed at his face, fatigue spread through his body, numbing him down to his bones. “I don’t know what I thought I could find. I guess I hoped there was someone in the past who did the same thing and I could find something solid.”
“And the wraiths that seemed to want to eat us?” Ari asked. “There’s not a lot of accidental in that.”
“No,” Death admitted. “That definitely wasn’t an accident. I don’t think I have the right books or maybe even the proper translations. Reading through these is like trying to grab at a ghost. Just when I think I have something solid, it whispers out of my mind. The closest reference I can find is about a thirteenth-century sorcerer that disappeared into the shadows and never came out.”
“If he never came out, how do they know it happened?”
“His apprentice was tasked with keeping track of his experiments.” Death leaned into the curve of Ari’s body, cradling a book between them. “This is a translation of the student’s original journals. He says that his mentor worked on an elixir for decades, testing it on criminals.”
“How did that go?”
“The text says most of the test subjects died. A few went insane.” Turning a page, Death pointed to an illustration of a man parting a curtain. “He then wrote that the sorcerer took the potion himself and stepped through a lake of mercury. As far as the apprentice knew, no one ever saw the man again.”
“So, the same things that happened then are happening now?” Ari reached for Death’s cup of tea, making a face at the cold, bitter brew. “Walking through a lake of mercury. That sounds like the Veil.”
“It does,” Death agreed. “If the apprentice could see the Veil, he might have been a Seer and not have known it. The journals don’t say much beyond that. I think Peace might have an original text. He gave me this one.”
“Surprisingly generous of him.” The next sip of tea was more palatable, Ari decided, the bitterness edged out by a light verdant taste behind it. “Let’s get you back into bed. We can go talk to Peace about lending us what he’s got. Maybe take a couple of goats and a basket of eggs in trade.”
“He’ll think you’re offering him a dowry.” Death allowed himself to be pulled from the couch, Ari’s hand closed around his fingers. Ari turned the lights off, then led Death downstairs, back to the bed they’d shared. As Ari shed his sweats, Death shut the curtains, hiding the waking cityscape from view.
Joining Ari, the eldest Horseman tucked himself under the sheets War held up for him. They’d gotten no real guidance, and while Ari didn’t expect any, Death hoped for at least a clue on where to start looking for the human.
They lay together often, sometimes for comfort, other times for warmth. Death slid into the hollow of Ari’s body, easing against the other immortal’s side. The blond’s right shoulder cupped Death’s cheek, Ari’s hand sliding down to stroke at the Asian man’s back, tracing the dip of his spine before following the bone line up to the winged jutting of blades beneath the brush of Death’s black hair. The elder slid his arm over Ari’s belly, the bend of his elbow just striking the edge of the other’s hip bone.
Shifting, Death moved to free the loose ends of his drawstring pants, trapped between them.
Finding the edges of sleep just beyond his grasp, Death let his mind wander, his fingers finding the scar on Ari’s rib cage and tracing the edges lightly. As the Horseman settled, Ari waited, naked and silent under Death’s body, their breathing falling into sync.
“Mal will probably have to head to Hong Kong in a bit.” Death spoke, his breath a whispering heat over War’s chest. A lamp burned low on the table, giving him just enough light to see Ari’s stomach muscles bunching under his touch. “I think there are things brewing for him in the burned remains of that slum I was called to.”
“Let’s leave work outside of this room for right now.” Ari bent his head down, murmuring into Death’s hair. “If you need to talk, I have things we can talk about.”
“I’m too tired to revisit old arguments, Ari.” Death knew he should remove himself from War’s hold, but the seductive warmth of the other’s body eased the weariness in his flesh.
“I have a new one, actually.” Ari exhaled, finally releasing the knot of apprehension that grew in his belly. Death shifted as if to move away, but Ari stopped him with a firm hand against the rise of his backside, holding the Horseman against him. “Listen to me, Death.”
There was no anger in War’s voice, just a cold flatness edged sharp by the overwhelming fear he’d cut his throat on every time he swallowed. He was surprised to find a calmness in his soul. His emotions, which were normally at odds with his heart, were serenely in agreement with the decisions he’d made, a far cry from the chaos that ruled his mind. Death heard the change, staying quiet against Ari’s body, his face still pressed on the ridge of the other man’s collarbone.
“I need to ask you something.” Ari spoke slowly, trying to find an anchor to his thoughts. “And I need you to tell me the truth, not avoid the question.”
“I’ll answer anything for you, Ari.”
“Why Batu?”
“Why Batu?” Ari couldn’t see Death’s face, hidden by hair and shadow, but he heard the confusion in the elder’s voice. “Why Batu what?”
Ari returned to stroking Death’s bare back, not trusting himself to look down. “Why did you take Batu to your bed and not me?”
“Why are you bringing up Batu now?” Death whispered, his hand unmoving against the tuft of dark hair around the other’s belly button. “He’s gone from us. What good is this going to do, talking about this now?”
“Because I need to know if you loved him.” Ari’s fingers found Death’s chin, lifting the other man’s face up so he could see Death’s expression. The thin silver scar ran cold across the Horseman’s pale golden features, a hint of a violence from Death’s previous life. “I need to know why you slept with one of my better friends and still turn me away.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Death’s words were cut off by Ari’s thumb coursing over his lower lip.
“I think this is the best time to talk about this,” Ari corrected. Turning over onto his side, Ari kept Death close to him, hooking one leg over the Horseman’s long thigh. His cock stiffened, hot where he touched Death’s skin, a needful warmth roiling over Ari’s groin. “Because today, I waited for you, and let me tell
you, there’s nothing like terror to help clear your mind of all the bullshit that collects up there. So tell me, Death.” Ari traced the scar along the man’s face with the tip of his finger. “Why Batu?”
Time froze in the space between them despite the warmth of their combined bodies. Never patient, Ari held his tongue, letting the other gather his thoughts. Ari had held onto that question for years, a kernel of doubt in his heart that joined the many he’d already nurtured there.
“Because he was a friend.” Death finally spoke, his eyes troubled and cloudy.
“And me?”
“Sometimes you’re not a friend.”
“Did you love him?” Ari prodded, his hand moving down over Death’s shoulders, finding the curve of the other man’s waist. Death’s fingers picked at the sheet hems trapped under them, plucking at the thread edges. “Answer me, Death. Did you love him?”
“No.” The eldest Horseman shook his head, unable to meet the other’s eyes. “It wasn’t… we were just….”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to sit across of Batu and not want to smash his face in for touching you?” Ari asked. “And you both were so discreet, making sure you never flaunted what you were doing in front of me, but we all knew what was going on.”
“He never meant to hurt you,” Death replied. “It wasn’t like that between us.”
“I know,” Ari admitted. “That’s the hardest part. I couldn’t hate Batu because I loved him like a brother, but there he was, with his mouth on you or his hands touching you and, worse yet, inside of you, where I should be. I wanted to kill him for it, and then at the same time, I wanted to beg to ask him how you tasted in his throat.”
“I sometimes think he left because of us, you and me,” the eldest murmured, his eyes closing in remembrance of the Pestilence they both loved. “I think he felt trapped between us. You were his brother. He loved your friendship so much. He just looked to me to ease himself and to be my friend. There never was any of what I feel for you between us. Batu knew that. He wasn’t looking for love.”
“It was just sex, then?” Ari didn’t know if he could comprehend the flood of passions filling his mind in that moment. Relief tangled horns with resentment, hatred for a Horseman now gone and the fondness he had for the easygoing Batu clashing in his heart.
“We both had needs. Sadly, parts of us are still human,” Death admitted, unsure of how he could explain to the other how the former Pestilence approached him, wanting only solace for his body, seeking companionship with a man he counted as a friend. There had been no love between them, a safe, comfortable easing of the tensions of their bodies but none of the hot passions that threatened Death’s heart when Ari was near. “It wasn’t just sex. We shared. We could talk about things. Sometimes that’s all we did. Other times when we did have sex, it was just nice.”
“Nice,” Ari repeated. “I can give you nice. Why don’t you let me give you nice?”
“There’s nothing nice about you.” Death tried to push away, stilled once more by Ari’s restraining grasp on his hip. “You want to push everything of yourself into me. There is no nice there.”
“No, probably not,” he conceded with a grunt. “But how it is between us has to change. I can’t do this back and forth dance that we’ve been practicing. Tonight it felt like forever until I could touch you. I’m not going to do that anymore. I sat there and made a decision about us.”
“Are you going to give up chasing me, then?” A part of Death broke, shattering beneath Ari’s surprisingly tender caresses.
“No.” Ari smiled, leaning forward to trace the other man’s facial scar with the tip of his tongue. “You, my Death, are the sin that tempts and burns me. I’d sooner cut my own throat than leave you be.”
Leaving a trail of moisture along Death’s cheek, Ari blew to cool the heat he felt under his mouth. Pushing Death back, Ari lay prone over the other Horseman’s body, scissoring his legs over Death’s shins. With his greater weight, he trapped the slender Asian against the soft feather top, working his fingers into Death’s hands and pulling the Horseman’s arms up above his head. Holding Death’s wrists easily with one of his hands, Ari shifted his hips to distribute his weight evenly, ignoring the man’s mewls of protest at being handled.
“Get off. You’re heavy.” Death twisted, snarling as he tried to break free. Ari pinned him easily, the man’s greater strength evident in the massive bunching of his shoulder muscles. “War, come on.”
“No,” Ari repeated. “I’m not giving up on you. And for once in our lives, Death, shut up and listen to me.”
Subdued, Death turned his face away when Ari licked at his jaw, feeling the rough of the Horseman’s tongue on his skin. His body responded hard to the feel of Ari on him, a thickening he often hid behind the cool dousing of his thoughts. Surprisingly, Ari didn’t grin knowingly at the shaft stretching itself along Death’s thigh, hidden by the thin cotton drawstring pants pulling down on Death’s hips.
Instead the man continued finding spots of untouched flesh with his rough mouth, Ari’s teeth nipping at the delicate softness at the edge of Death’s lips.
“I’ve spent forever wanting you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve wanted your body, and most of all, I’ve wanted to crack open your heart and see my name branded there.” Ari shushed Death’s protests with a firm kiss on his full mouth. “Shutting up means that your mouth isn’t moving and you’re not making sounds.
“You frustrate me, and I go running off, finding anything wet and warm to stick myself into until all of my aggravation is gone, and then what do I do? I go right back to hovering around you because you are my addiction.” Ari’s free hand played with the ends of Death’s hair, pulling a strand down, feeling its smoothness between his fingers. “You’ve been telling me that we can’t be together because losing me would be too much for you to bear. I’ve heard that. And I’ve listened to it. Gods know I’ve tried to stay away, but I can’t. And then today, I finally figured something out.”
“What?” Disgruntled, Death tilted his head away from Ari’s hand, trying not to fall into the other man’s warmth. It was harder than he expected. He’d been able to turn away the impetuous War’s advances for as long as he could remember, but the slow seduction of words and touch wavered his resolve, his body traitorously reacting to Ari’s caresses.
“I know you feel the same as I do. I know you, Death. I know your heart,” Ari said, soft on Death’s parted lips. “You think that by pushing me away, that means we’re not together. But we both know, without question, that you’re mine. Anyone who has touched you did so because you needed physical release, but not for love. Never for love.”
“Is that why you asked about Batu? To see if you were right?”
“Yes,” Ari admitted. “Of all of the people you’ve had in your bed, Batu was the only one I was worried about being in your heart. I will not compete with a dead man. Especially not one I loved. So I either had to make sure he was never there, or I would have to work to erase him.” Ari listened to Death breathe, comforted by the simple sound. “When I watched that ghost crying for his family, I thought to myself, Death would do that for me. Then when you told me to shut up… again… I spent the time wondering if you have ever loved anyone besides me. And my gut told me no.”
“And you automatically assumed that this means I’m yours?” Death’s mouth quirked, bemused at Ari’s arrogance.
“You are mine. You’ve never been anything but mine.” Ari had thought long on how he felt and what was between them. “You worry that you’re going to be left alone. And sometimes I wonder if there isn’t a part of your mortal life lodged someplace in that busy head of yours that whispers betrayal and loss when you’re not looking.
“We both know you came into being the first time some primitive genetic soup of a man thought to himself ‘One day, I’ll be no more.’” Ari’s tone grew gentle. “In that moment when sentience reached through that little gray human brain and that first drooling idi
ot realized that he could die, you were born.
“And see, Shi,” Ari continued. “We also both know that a second or maybe even a minute after that drooling idiot was bestowed with that miraculous awareness, he looked over to the man next to him chewing on a piece of meat and thought, ‘Hey, I can kill him and take that.’ And then I was born.
“So, all things considered.” Ari grinned at Death’s shy smile. “We’ve always been together. You and I. Bound together by free will, a piece of meat, and the gift of awareness to a very short-lived species that can make fire.”
“You reasoned all of that waiting for me to coax those ghosts through the Veil?” Death said.
“More than enough time to think on it, trust me. You spent enough time cajoling the damn soul, when I would have just shoved him in and been done with it,” Ari said. “I also decided I wasn’t going to sit back and let people drift in and out of your bed while I circled around you.
“So, Shi, from this moment on, you are only mine. No one else touches you. I’m willing to wait for you while you sort out whatever it is that holds you back from being with me, because I’m very good at doing just that, but I’m not going to watch anyone else’s hands on you.”
“You can’t make decisions for me,” Death insisted, his arms aching under War’s grasp. “Not about this. Not between us.”
“You’ve been making that decision for us day after day for as long as both of us have been alive. It’s going to change,” Ari said. “There’s not going to be anyone who shares your breath besides me. No one. I mean it, Death. You’re mine as much as I’m yours. I will lay waste to every living thing on this planet first, both behind and in front of the Veil, if you decide to test that.”
“You’re going to be celibate?” Death laughed, trying to steady the quivering in his throat. “You won’t last a week.”